


Restraint

by kittyandco (yourKitty)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Crying, F/F, First Order (Star Wars), First Order Politics (Star Wars), Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, OC X CANON, Other, Power Imbalance, Self Ship, Self-Insert, Unrequited Love, Voice Kink, Workplace Relationship, self shipping, we're very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourKitty/pseuds/kittyandco
Summary: Kitty & Captain Phasma share an interesting moment that, to say the very least, compromises their professional relationship. Kitty's left wondering what it means - if it means she can eventually enter into the captain's good graces.Original post date: 03/13/2020
Relationships: Phasma/Original Character(s), Phasma/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Restraint

Even her thoughts were slurring, much more than a compromised vision. She squinted, and lifted her eyebrows, and squinted, alternating between the methods to clear the way. It only made her face spasm oddly, emphasized by trembling lips. Eventually she had to rub her eyes with tough, stained hands. Shuddering breaths caught weakly in her throat, forced down with a hard swallow. 

She didn’t know where she was going. Aimless, confused as always, dazed into a spineless and shallow burden. She often took the brunt of such feelings, but today, just once, in a small strain of hope, maybe someone would help. Listen. Offer their presence. 

She was nearly done with the First Order, declaring so as if pulling away was even possible of her own volition. An offer of exile became a favorable scenario, next to execution, despite faulty reasoning to justify either act. No one had ever left that she’d heard of, not without an underlying betrayal. But her use was running thin. What could such an entity need with her - sensitive character, strong ethics, acceptable morals to anyone uncorrupted by its cruel indoctrination - and the things that stood out. 

Relation hardly remained the deciding factor of obedience, though it remained the only one. What had Ben ever done for her protection? Nothing he promised had ever saved her from such isolation, such pain. 

She found unsteady refuge along the corner made by intersecting walls. The base hardly made much room to hide. Holding a breath and soft sob, she rested against the cool surface behind her, with tight, closed eyes. In a tentative calm, she listened. The general’s voice mingled with the open air (which felt closed and suffocating nonetheless); she couldn’t care less what he spoke of, and his tone edged further anxiety, to an extent, but carrying with it an odd calm that became sorely needed. Phasma answered, monotonously.

Another catch in her heart forced her attention harder. Those two…

All this time she’d been advised to steer clear of them, despite consistent orders they spat at her. They didn’t care a bit about Ben’s advice - not that they knew what it was - but her privilege didn’t go unnoticed. And they may have been the only to know, considering the ordeal that got her to this point.

She let a soft whimper escape her throat as she stood, deciding what to do. She couldn’t stand the wrath from Ben, nor the loneliness in her own room, nor risk approaching anyone else. So she was _lost_.

The two parted, and she used the opening to continue down the corridor. Phasma made her way to the right, and Hux to the left. Kitty stood in the middle, deliberating in an excruciating silence. As she moved once again, she found herself approaching Phasma. A tall, shielded figure, with little clue of shared humanity… as far as Kitty knew, she _wasn’t_ human, and if so, unapproachable and cruel like her brother.

The sound of emptiness became unbearable. She stepped forward, clenching a weak fist.

The other woman turned, without one creak in her armor. “Kitty.”

She stopped. It was nearly surprising that she remembered the name. And from her voice… 

“Yeah?” she asked so softly, with unprecedented resolve. 

“Are you done sniveling?” 

That was no let down. It was enough of an honor to have her attention. Kitty remained silent, but not defiant, nodding.

This end of the hall was clear, just the two standing there with opposite dispositions. A hiss from the silver helmet prompted Kitty’s attention again, revealing a face so beautiful, and just as commanding as her voice per the stoicism in it. But she cared enough to show herself, setting the article on an aside platform, and the tech found awe in the sight.

Short gold locks fell slightly beyond deep blue eyes and a strong brow, inviting lips tight with apathy. Kitty scolded herself not to look too long, with those fleeting feelings arising again. She thought, “How could I even feel that way, or any way except intimidated…” and it cut short. And she didn’t dare speak first.

“What’s troubling you?” Stern indifference was neither helpful nor reassuring… only her eyes, reminiscent of the seas on distant, unattainable planets, provided any possible solace. 

“I’m,” she shook, “I’m… I’m just so tired of all of this. I can’t take it anymore.” It sounded stupid, and worst of all _weak_.

“And what is that?” 

The most treacherous risk was to simply tell the truth about it. “Just look at me.” Kitty stood still, small in figure and command, she looked quite miserable - and they both knew misery too well. Dark tufts of disheveled hair fell past her shoulders, its color an unfortunate compliment to the dark circles around her eyes, often a deep, shimmering brown faded into hopelessness. Admittedly, no, this wasn’t in her character, from what anyone else knew. Things have just finally come to a head - one look couldn’t cover it all. 

Phasma wouldn’t let on a thing, but her eyes moved along the details. Yes, pathetic. Not hopeless. A sizable hand sifted the unruly hair aside, slicking it back… untapped tenderness in it. Her face still hard, drawn to lightly trembling lips and unwise vulnerability. On instinct, Kitty reached up to deter the odd notion, caught in a telling iron grip. She tried the other hand, nearly gasping at the force of the opposite one around that wrist. Her eyes flowed across, from hand to hand, finding both fear and delight in Phasma’s strength.

On a normal day, she’d have been scolded tenfold by now, probably in a worse position than current. Either threatened death or worse, who knows around here, but now, even in this kind of vulnerability, an iron figure towering over a shaking and scared little thing… she feltsafe?

Her fingers flexed, ensuring feeling through the hands, her breath lost in a whirlpool of mingling thoughts, without an idea of what this meant or what could happen.

“Get to your quarters. Now.” Phasma released her, allowing Kitty to stagger back with lingering bewilderment, leaving too much left. 

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification: the little mention of Ben refers to the fact that my s/i is close with Kylo, considering each other siblings of sorts, and therefore knows his real name. I'm not sure if that came through, so here's some context! I'm so sorry I just want to simp for a tall and dangerous woman once in a while


End file.
